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What happened when I rented a friend for the night

We try RentAFriend.com, a site where you can find a plus one for practically anything at a low hourly rate.

Star reporter Ryan Porter, left, and professional "rent-a-friend" Cassandra Lemon enjoy an evening at the Painted Lady bar in Toronto. Lemon usually asks for $20 to $25 an hour, but agreed to $10 an hour in exchange for a free night out. (J.P. MOCZULSKI / The Toronto Star)

By Ryan PorterEntertainment Reporter

Wed., March 30, 2016

In ’80s teen movies, when someone pays for friendship they’re usually about to learn a valuable lesson about how priceless true friendship really is. Priceless, as in free, as in the same price of a Can’t Buy Me Love VHS.

So I had steeled myself for a karmic comeuppance when I first met Cassandra Lemon, a 22-year-old social-work student, kitchen staff member at iQ Food Co. and professional friend-for-hire.

This was in spite of encouraging early evidence. Lemon had cheerfully embraced the idea of attending a showcase of breaking bands at the Painted Lady, a bar on Ossington Ave., earlier this month when I contacted her through RentAFriend.com. The site arranges platonic hangouts at an hourly rate, plus a $24.95 (U.S.) monthly membership fee.

Though she usually asks for $20 to $25 an hour, Lemon happily agreed to accept $10 an hour in exchange for a free night out. Arriving 10 minutes early, dressed in a simple black T-shirt, smoky eye makeup beneath her glasses and a necklace strung with the symbol from video game Assassin’s Creed, Lemon nodded along as I made conversation, fixing me with a sympathetic, unblinking gaze.

This was the 15th or 16th time she had met someone through Rent-A-Friend since joining four years ago and the results had been drastically mixed. She describes one man she met for a drink as “too angry” — she politely excused herself early in the evening.

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Another, in town for a meeting, invited her to the theatrical horsemanship showcase Cavalia. He got lost along the way and, frustrated that her phone was too old to receive photos of the surrounding landmarks, took her straight to the Apple Store and bought her an iPhone.

“I was really uncomfortable,” she says. “I was incredibly grateful the whole day, like thank you so much!”

Another guy asked her to accompany him to a wedding. “He didn’t want any more, ‘Why aren’t you seeing anybody?’” she says. At the last minute, he cancelled.

Before meeting anyone, she sets ground rules to ensure it’s understood just what kind of friend-for-hire she is. “I’m not OK with hand holding,” she says. “I’m OK with sitting next to you. We’ll see, maybe a hug at the end. . . . For me, I’m not even going to get in your car.”

Despite RentAFriend.com’s goal of connecting people with friends, finding Lemon wasn’t easy; of the 14 professionally social people I contacted, only half responded and most shirked press coverage of their side gig.

The people we reached include Parker, a 25-year-old filmmaker who joined the site last year as research for a screenplay, though he was never “rented.” On the other end of the spectrum: Natasha, whose fee was “100/hr, with a 300 minimum.”

I chatted with Rina Czerniawska, a 42-year-old waitress who has been on the site for six weeks. She’d gone out once, to see a horror movie with a guy whose friends don’t follow the genre. “You get to meet people,” she says, a shrug in her voice. “If I have nothing to do and I’m bored at home, why not, right? It gets me out of the house.”

While Czerniawska is up for new experiences, she turned down a request from a woman who wanted her to meet at Ossington Station every morning at 8:15 a.m. to make sure she made it to work. It’s the only story I heard about a woman trying to rent a friend. Lemon says all of her messages have been from men.

Ironically, Lemon has been using some of that extra Rent-A-Friend income to go out alone: she’s gone to see arena acts such as Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran and Arianna Grande solo.

We pause to listen to Color Film, an indie rock guitarist from Hamilton. I worry that Lemon can’t see. I worry that the noise is overpowering the music for her the way it is for me. I worry about if she is having fun.

Though Lemon is nothing but upbeat about the experience, if there’s any moral to the Rent-A-Friend story, I decide, it’s this: if I’m going to make anyone suffer through an unknown rock band, I would rather it be with someone who I’m already comfortable not having fun with.

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